Forsaken
by roguest
Summary: What if Jocelyn and Lucian hadn't betrayed Valentine in the Uprising? What if demons and forsaken dominated Alicante? What if Clary had grown up with a father and a brother? Valentine is the most feared man in the whole of the land, alongside his menacing tyrant of a son. When Clary turns her back on her family, a war breaks out - one that not everyone will survive. Not this time.
1. Sibling Rivalry

**Chapter One - Sibling Rivalry**

 _Two households, both alike in dignity,  
in fair Idris, where we lay our scene.  
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,  
where civil blood makes civil hands unclean._

Eighteen years ago, the world of the Nephilim broke out into a new diarchy, the sacred land of Idris being torn in two. The Uprising caused bloodshed and travesty to spread among the Shadowhunter world, friends turning against friends, new allies being made along the way. Those who were fortunate enough to survive were not without their scars, many going crazy from the sights they'd seen and some becoming recluses far away from anybody.

Nobody won. Nobody lost. The War lasted mere weeks, though only ended when either side realised there was no way for them to win. On January 19th 1991, a truce was made between Valentine Morgenstern and those that were left of the Clave. Alicante would remain in the Clave's domain, while Brocelind was given whole heartedly to Valentine and his followers - Shadowhunters and Demons alike. Neither side would bother the other, though Shadowhunters were free to travel between the two domains. Demons, however, were secluded to Brocelind under the power of the Morgenstern's, and Downworlder's were to remain in Alicante under the protection of the Clave.

Brocelind made up most of Idris, the Brocelind Plain being a large expanse of flat country terrain that lead to the Brocelind Forest at the perimeter of the country. In the centre of the plains, standing high and mighty, was the Morgenstern Castle. A grand structure that looked like something straight out of a fairytale, the Morgenstern Castle was built fully in the form of a fortress with a ship's bow-shaped layout and guarded wards around the perimeter. It served simultaneously as a royal palace, a state prison, and a Shadowhunter Academy for the few Nephilim that remained in the Morgenstern domain. It was a symbol of strength, and power, and most importantly, loyalty...

* * *

Clary rolled over in her semi-conscious state with a small noise of complaint, not wanting to get up just yet. She could feel the bright light hitting her eyelids from the window on the left side of her room, meaning it was anywhere between 5 and 7 in the morning. Way too early for her liking.

Her body curled into something warm and cushioned on the far side of the bed, and she hummed contently as she rested her head atop it and wrapped her arms around it. She felt strong arms wrap around her waist in return, and the hair by her forehead shifted as something soft pressed the skin there. She frowned for a moment in confusion, even half asleep sensing something wasn't completely right.

She opened her eyes and was greeted with a bare chest, which only added to her confusion. She followed the body up only to see her brother smirking egotistically down at her. With a start and a cry she slapped his chest and threw herself off him, sitting up on the other side of the bed. "Jonathan!" She shouted, grabbing one of her pillows and thwacking it down against his face. "How many times have I told you to stop that? It's creepy."

"Oh come on," he chuckled nonchalantly, shifting the pillow from his face to behind his head. He placed a hand behind his head and looked up at her, an eyebrow arched. "You know you love it. You wouldn't have made those humming noises if you found it _that_ creepy."

"That's because I was half asleep." She hissed unkindly as she stood up from her bed, reaching for the navy blue silk dressing gown that hung at the end of of it. She pulled it on over her skimpy white sleep shirt and purple underwear while keeping her back to her brother, feeling suddenly self conscious. "I didn't exactly know what I was doing."

Clary glanced down at her leg as she smoothed the silk fabric down, her fingertips skirting over the bare skin where a certain rune should be... She walked over to the set of drawers beside the head of the bed, pulling the top most one open and taking out her Stele. She turned her back on the drawers to lean back against it and outstretched her leg, carefully redrawing the rune on the very top of her thigh. It was small, and looked a lot like the _Swift_ rune.

"Why do you even use that stupid rune?" Jonathan said with clear disgust as he sat up on the bed, one leg to the side on the floor. "It's not like you even need it."

"Because I'm not a whore like my brother." She said with a sarcastic smile, waving her Stele in the air before making her way across the room to the door that lead to her ensuite. "I created it, and so Mom wants me to use it. Unlike some people, I actually listen to her."

"Of course you do." His voice followed her into the bathroom as she placed her Stele on the side, running a shower. "Mommy's little girl."

"Like you're not daddy's little bitch?" She returned to the bedroom with an arched eyebrow gestured towards her brother while she put her hair up in a high pony tail. She grabbed some clean training clothes as well as a towel. She went to walk back into bathroom, but paused, turning to face her brother. He was still lounging on her bed without a care in the world, and it seriously irked her. "Don't you have someone else to annoy?"

He pouted his lips as if in thought and that, pausing for a moment. She watched him expectantly, before a wicked grin crossed his face. "Nope." He winked, popping his lips on the 'p'. "My schedule's clear today. The only thing on it is to look after my baby sister."

Clary rolled her eyes, walking into the bathroom and placing her hand on the back of the door. "Yeah, well, she doesn't need to be looked after. Especially not by _you."_ She stuck out her tongue childishly as she slammed the door shut, swiftly locking it so he couldn't disturb her.

* * *

By the time Clary made it down the stairs and to the family kitchen, it was a little before ten in the morning. She was dressed in a plain pair of black compression pants, a purple tank top with a criss-cross back and her favourite pair of black trainers with white laces.

Nobody was in the kitchen except for one of the family chefs, who smiled politely at her as she walked in. Clary grabbed an apple and a bottle of water from the fridge before heading back out again and down the hallway towards the training room. She was slightly earlier than usual, so she didn't expect anybody to be there just yet.

She'd barely made it through the ornate double oak doors when something came flying directly towards her face. In an instant she dropped the items in her hand and caught the stupid thing, seeing it was one of the bamboo sticks they used to train in combat. She looked up and around the room with an incredulous expression, seeing one of her tutors stood at the far end of the room with an amused smirk.

"Hodge," she huffed, throwing the bamboo stick to the floor besides her. "You could have knocked me out with that thing."

"But I didn't." He corrected with a finger pointed towards her. He pushed himself off from the wall he was leaning against and made his way over to her in just a few long strides. He scooped the water bottle off the floor at her feet just as she grabbed the apple, handing it to her as they both stood up. "Your reflexes are getting better - kudos on that."

"Thanks." She narrowed her eyes at him skeptically as she took the water bottle from him before walking to the far side of the room. She quickly ate most of the apple while Hodge set up the room for their session, before tossing it into the trashcan in the corner of the room.

Jonathan entered the room just as she placed her water bottle on a bench against the wall, and Clary rolled her eyes at him. "What the hell are you doing here?" She groaned, grabbing a bamboo stick from the wall. "You're not supposed to be training today."

"Hodge asked me to come in." He smirked, picking up the stick near the door that Hodge had thrown at Clary just minutes before. He spun it around effortlessly between his two hands, before resting it against his shoulder as he approached his little sister. "He thought you might benefit sparring against someone with a different fighting stance."

"I'd rather not," she swung the stick behind her and rested it across her shoulders, hooking her arms up to rest it in the crook of her elbows as she walked over to Hodge. She'd walked barely five feet when Jonathan attacked her from the side, swiping his bamboo stick across for her midsection. She caught him out of the corner of her eye before he'd moved, giving her just enough time to jump out of the way.

She unlinked her arms from her own weapon and jammed one end onto the floor, using it to push herself away from her brother so she had as much distance as possible. When she landed safely and twirled the stick so it was poised slightly behind her, she glared at Jonathan, who was still smirking at her. He walked nonchalantly across the room while swinging his weapon besides him, acting as if he hadn't just ruthlessly attacked his younger sister.

"You're lucky I don't scorch your ass right here right now." Clary teased as she and her brother began circling each other, the former much more poised and on edge while the latter was acting as if it was a casual Sunday.

"Then why don't you?" He pursed his lips, looking across the room at her as he rested the bamboo stick across his shoulders. "Like I always say, what's the point in dragging a fight out when you know you can win?"

"Because father has already said that I'm not to use that rune on you," she said bitterly, hoping he was distracted by her words as she attacked. She launched herself forwards and gripped the stick with both hands, spinning around to gain momentum before swinging directly for his throat in an attempt to wind him. He was much quicker, however, and had slid his own weapon into his hands and blocked her effectively. He grunted as he threw her away from him, and she stumbled to regain her balance for a moment. "It kills demons and you're part demon - who knows what it might do to you?"

"When do you ever listen to him?" Jonathan rolled his eyes and stepped forwards, swiping his bamboo stick diagonally down for the right side of her neck. She swiftly blocked him, as well as the second quick attack he launched for her other side. She pushed him away from her, like he had before, and spun around to gain momentum before thrusting the stick upwards towards his throat.

The butt of the wood landed full force on his Adam's apple, choking him momentarily as he stepped back. Clary grinned in success as she spun the stick expertly in her hands to swipe sidewards for his dominant side, managing to hit him on his torso. Jonathan groaned out in pain as he darted to the side, almost growling as he repositioned the stick in his hands.

He shouted out in a warrior-like cry as he leaped forwards for his sister, launching quick successive attacks in bursts of three. Clary was working overtime trying to block each attack, suffering several bad blows to her dominant arm and being winded by an attack to her stomach. The frustration was building up inside of her as she realised she was beginning to tire, while he appeared to be as right and rain.

She was beginning to realise how much of a better fighter Jonathan was compared to her, and it was becoming more noticeable that she wasn't going to be able to defeat him if they continued this combat. He dropped downwards in a crouching panther stance and swiped his bamboo stick for her knees, forcing her to jump high to avoid it. She groaned in pain as she landed, deciding to use that moment to get a one-up on Jonathan.

As he was standing, Clary stepped forwards and kicked sharply upwards, knocking the bamboo stick clean out of his hands. He looked at it's direction of travel in surprise, his concentration lacking. That gave her just enough time to thrust her weapon into his stomach to wind him like he had done her, before throwing her own stick directly in his face.

He stumbled blindly backwards, and Clary immediately began running in the other direction, knowing he wouldn't be caught off guard for more than just a few seconds. She ran straight for the wall and placed her foot up as high as she could onto it, kicking up and off from the ground. She reached up and hooked her hands onto the wooden beams stretching across the top of the room, before heaving herself up onto it.

She glanced down at her vantage point and could see Jonathan running across the room that followed her path up the wall. Clary scrambled to her feet and quickly ran across the beams to the furthest side, before turning to face the way she'd came. Jonathan was just climbing up onto the beams, glaring at her all the while. Clary grabbed her Stele from the back pocket of her pants and quickly traced a rune onto her left hand. It was a rune she'd only used once before, and it was on Hodge, so she had no idea what effect it would have on her brother.

She shoved the Stele back into her pants and looked up to see Jonathan getting closer and closer by the second. "It's now or never," she murmured to herself as she stepped towards him, outstretching her hand towards him. Immediately there was a loud quake-like noise, and Jonathan shouted in pain. The beams beneath the pair of them shook, before crumbling in an instant beneath their feet.

Clary screamed as she fell down, quickly covering her head so that nothing would hit her and knock her out. She coughed out the dust she inhaled from the collapsed wood around her, groaning at the impact from her back hitting the ground first. She squinted beyond the smoke and turned to look for Jonathan, seeing him beneath a long but skinny beam of wood. He was knocked out though didn't appear to have any outward injuries.

"Clarissa!" She heard a scolding voice from the far side of the room, and she looked up in terror as she recognised the voice. Hodge was stood besides the door with his arm across his mouth, coughing up dust like Clary had been.

Besides him, in front of the open door, stood a tall and willowy woman with her arms folded. Her deep red hair was bundled into a neat bun at the base of her neck, and her matching coppery eyebrows were knitted into a tight, angry line.

Clary looked up apologetically at the woman, glancing around at the destruction she'd caused, before back up at the figure in the door. "Hi, Mom."

* * *

 _A shorter than typical chapter, however that's because this is the pilot chapter for **Forsaken,** the newest installment to my TMI collection. Thank you so much to Ciera/Craider for helping me come up with the concept and idea for this fanfiction. They helped me so much in coming up with this idea, and so I owe that to them. Thank you so so much for your support! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I look forward to going on this journey with you all. Please leave reviews on what you think, and for any ideas you may have for this story! Any and all ideas are welcome, and I'd love for you to help form this story. Again, thank you, and I hope you enjoyed!_


	2. The Lies, the Love, and the Loss

_Sorry for having disappeared the past two weeks. My computer recently broke on me so I had no way to write chapters, and I've also been without internet since LAST Saturday. I'm also going to be without internet for a further week or so (until about August 14th) so updates will be sparse, but I promise I'll update every chance I get. Thank you for supporting the start of this story, it means the world to me!_

 **Chapter Two - The Lies, the Love, and the Loss**

"Mom, I can explain." Clary immediately bounded to her feet and wiped the dust off from her workout pants, making a step towards her mother with open hands. Jocelyn lifted a finger in silence, halting her progression towards her mother.

The elder woman sighed, her eyes skimming the room before settling on her fallen son, who was still passed out between various pieces of wood. "Make sure he's okay, Starkweather." She instructed with a firm yet not unkind voice. "I'll send some people to clean this up. As for you," her voice changed from the diplomat to the scolding mother, and Clary diverted her gaze to look down at the floor as she felt her mother's eyes piercing through her soul. "Follow me. Now."

The air was silent and awkward as Clary walked alongside her mother through the castle, having to practically jog to keep up with her long and powerful strides. Everytime she opened her mouth to apologise, or say something, her mother would raise a hand to silence her. Eventually she gave up, deciding instead to brace herself for the world of pain she was in for when her mother finally stopped.

They walked into one of the far back rooms, one that Clary knew not many people knew existed - not even her father. She walked obediently into the centre of it as Jocelyn hung back, shutting and eventually locking the door. That wasn't a good sign.

Clary spun around on her heels to face her mother, opening her mouth to start the longwinded spiel of apology she'd prepared on their walk there. But she was immediately silenced by her mother throwing her arms tightly around her daughter, pulling her in for a warm and loving hug as she buried her face into the crook of her neck. Clary was wary at first, and confused, but nonetheless returned the gesture.

"I'm glad you're okay." Her mother whispered into her hair, kissing her temple before pulling back to look down at her daughter. "I heard the crashing and I thought something terrible had happened. I knew you were training with Hodge, and I thought maybe somebody had broken in and attacked you, or something else might have happened."

"I'm fine, Mom," she laughed softly, furrowing her brows in slight confusion as she retracted her arms from around her mother. "It was just Jonathan and I sparring. Why would someone have attacked me?"

She could see her mother's lips twitching at her words, a clear sign that she was withholding some sort of information. Her mother just smiled innocently, cupping her cheek as she peered down into her eyes. "They wouldn't have, dear." She said, swallowing hard. "I was just being a paranoid mother. You know me."

"Yeah, I do know you." Clary said with an accusing tone as her mother released her from her grip, walking to the other side of the room where a grand ornate fireplace stood. It wasn't lit, and she had a feeling it hadn't been lit for decades, judging by the collecting of dust inside and around the wooden blocks. "Which is why I know you're keeping something from me."

Jocelyn had her back to her, though even from this angle she could see her mother visibly tense around the shoulders. She placed a hand on the fireplace, idly skimming a finger across the golden framework around the marble top. She was acting different, almost somber, Clary thought as she slowly walked towards her. She saw her mother freeze the moment she got close to her, and so she stopped her advances.

They were quiet and still for an immeasurable time, until finally Jocelyn turned to face her daughter. She had a sad downturn to her eyes that Clary hadn't noticed before, and there were deep purple marks beneath them, almost as if she hadn't slept in weeks. "Mom," her heart instantly broke at seeing her looking so distraught, and she stumbled forwards to wrap her arms around her. Despite being half a foot taller than her, it didn't stop her from completely enveloping her in the comfort of her embrace.

"Oh, Clary," her mother sighed with a heavy heart as she rested her chin on her daughter's shoulder. "You are too pure for this world. You never should have been forced to live the life you lead." Clary's eyes narrowed in confusion as she pulled away from her mother, though kept her arms around her.

"What are you talking about? My life is fine, my life is good." She smiled, though the confusion was still in her eyes. "I have a mother who loves me, and a father and a brother. I'm happy. What's wrong with that?"

Jocelyn shook her head desperately, placing a hand on either of Clary's cheeks. "You don't know what happens beyond closed walls, Clary." She said desperately. "There are dark things in this family, things no seventeen year old should ever have to experience. I don't _want_ you to experience them."

"What are you-" the door behind them flung open then, and a determined Valentine stormed through with a steely gaze. His jaw was set as his eyes scanned the room, further defining his cheekbones, before his gaze finally landed on Clary.

She shrunk back slightly upon seeing her father's furious expression, knowing better than to provoke him when he was like that. He threw the doors closed behind him and barreled across the room towards where she stood in front of her mother. Without missing a beat he grabbed her by the shoulders and flung her to the side, her back and head smacking hard against the wall there.

"What did you do?" He shouted over her cries of terror as he placed an arm across her shoulders and chest, effectively pinning her to the wall while he held her arms firmly to her side. She cringed into the wall, flinching away from him as she kept her eyes clenched tightly shut. "What did you do to Jonathan?"

"Valentine, leave her alone!" Jocelyn practically shrieked at her husband, clawing at his arms to try and drag him off from Clary. He swatted her away like she was just a measly fly, his furious glare never leaving Clary's face.

"It was just a rune," she spluttered through her tears that were freely spilling from her closed eyes. "It was just supposed to knock him unconscious. I didn't know it would destroy the Training Room, please, you have to believe me. I'm so sorry, Daddy."

Clary clutched desperately at the tight grip her father held against her chest, all the while never looking him directly in the eye. This wasn't the first time she'd feared for her life from her father, and she was certain it wouldn't be the last either. He had a temper, especially when it came to matters concerning Jonathan - the golden child. Valentine was ruthless, and overprotective when it came to his eldest child.

But when it came to her? It was like he didn't even care.

He huffed to himself as he pulled his hand away from her, letting her drop limply to the floor, not bothering to ease her fall. He turned on his heels and stormed out the way he came without another word, ignoring his sobbing daughter he was leaving behind.

Jocelyn instantly dropped to the floor and wrapped her arms around Clary, pulling her into her lap with soothing words. "You're okay, sweetheart." She whispered into her ear as she stroked her hair, holding her as tightly as she could against her with her arms wrapped around her. "We'll get you out of this place, I promise. You deserve so much better than this."

"Why does he hate me so much?" Clary said, sounding pathetic as she looked up at her mother. The tears had eased off now, but her eyes were still red with stains down her cheek. "How can a father treat his own daughter like that?"

"He doesn't hate you, sweetheart." Jocelyn whispered with a sad expression as she cupped her daughters' cheek, flicking her gaze between Clary's eyes. "He's just scared of you. He doesn't know how to act when it comes to you."

Clary choked a laugh through her tears, wiping at her eyes. "Why would he be scared of me?" She huffed, looking down at her lap. "I'm not exactly terrifying."

"You are to him." Her mother told her, tucking Clary's wild red curls behind her ear. "You're the only thing that can take him down."

* * *

Clary spent most of the day by herself, avoiding both her brother and her father at all costs. She really was sorry for hurting Jonathan, but at the same time she couldn't help but think he deserved it. He'd knocked her on her ass more than she had in return, so it was about time he was taught a lesson.

By early evening she was back in her bedroom, having just finished taking another shower to wash away the sweat of her training and work out sessions from the day. She wrapped a towel around her waist and let her damp hair hang loosely around her shoulders as she took a look at herself in the mirror, idly looking her body over.

She'd learned to be more comfortable in her body over the past year or two, having finally developed from the childish, skinny figure she'd been her entire life, to the more developed, womanly figure she had today. She had a body most people would die for, with slight hips and gentle curves. She was still short, as she'd been her entire life, but she didn't care.

Clary stood to the side and ran a hand across her covered stomach, feeling the taught muscles there. Having Jonathan as a training partner was at least somewhat beneficial - he knew how to work her hard. The years of fighting and training had built her up to have more muscle than she had body fat, but not in the extreme body-builder type way. It looked natural on her, somehow, as if she was meant to be like that.

She sighed softly to herself as she gave her reflection one final once over, before letting out a small chuckle. She grabbed her _stele_ from the windowsill and made her way back into her bedroom. She was so absorbed in her own thoughts as she placed her _stele_ besides her bed and headed to grab clothes out from her wardrobe that she didn't even notice the silent footfalls of her brother entering the room. What did alert her, however, was the clicking sound of the lock on her door being hooked into place.

Clary gasped in surprise and clutched the towel desperately close to her body as she spun around, leaning her back against the wardrobe. Her body relaxed slightly as she saw Jonathan sauntering into the room, keeping his head ducked low so she couldn't see her face. "You scared the hell out of me." She huffed, frustrated, as she turned back to her clothes. "Why did you lock my door?"

"I didn't want anybody disturbing us." His voice sounded distant and strained, despite the fact he was just mere metres away from her. "I didn't want to be interrupted."

"Interrupt what?" Clary turned around with clothing in her hand and narrowed her eyes at him. He'd made himself at home and was perched at the end of her bed, his shoulders slouched over and his head still ducked down to look at the floor. He didn't answer her question, and she huffed once more, before retreating into the bathroom to change.

When she emerged in comfy grey sweatpants and a tight black tank top, she immediately looked towards her bed for her brother, and was confused when she saw it vacant. She placed a hand on the door of the ensuite and called out warily as she shut it behind her. "Jonathan?"

Hands grabbed her from the side, and she let out a small scream in surprise. She saw platinum blond hair as she was pushed firmly against the wall, a hand across her mouth and one on her hip, plastering her fully to the wall. She looked up and into Jonathan's pitch black eyes, sighing in relief. Clary wrapped a hand around the wrist of the hand against her mouth, pulling it away so she could talk. "Twice, now." She complained. "Twice in five minutes you've scared me half to death."

"Sorry." There was an amused glint in his eye and a mischievous smirk on his lips, two telltale signs that showed he wasn't sorry in the slightest. He twisted his hand around so he was grasping her wrist instead, sliding her arm up the wall so it rested high above her head. She swallowed hard, feeling very vulnerable as her brother held her firmly against the wall.

Jonathan moved his other hand from her hip to grab her other wrist, placing it alongside her other up above her head. He held both her wrists in one of his large hands, bringing his other down to stroke her lightly along her cheekbones with an almost curious tilt of his head. "You're very adorable when you're nervous." He whispered with a low tone, his eyes darting all across her face. "Your eyes go all wide, there's a pretty pink blush across your cheeks. Does your big brother make you nervous?"

"He does when he's in my personal space." She said hesitantly, tugging at his iron grip around her wrists. He wouldn't budge, which only made her even more concerned. "What are you doing, Jonathan?"

"I'm just... making sure my little sister knows how much I love her."

"If this is about training," she started apologetically, looking up into his eyes, "I'm really sorry. I didn't realise what it would d-"

Her words were cut short by Jonathan crushing his lips to hers, catching her completely by surprise. His lips were hot and rough and forceful, pressing her head against the wall so she couldn't move. She tugged furiously at her wrists as she tried to push him away, even using her legs to try and shove him off from her. She felt simultaneously confused and disgusted by her brother, wanting nothing more than to just slap him silly.

He growled against her lips when she refused to respond to his kiss, wrapping his free arm tightly around her back to pull her impossibly close to his body. They were pressed flush together, and Clary could feel the want through the fabric of their trousers, immediately feeling even more violated. She opened her mouth to his only to bite down as hard as she could on his lower lip, hoping that would stop him.

He shouted in either surprise or pain, Clary wasn't sure which, and retracted his lips from hers. His grip around her wrists faltered, giving her enough leeway to tug them out from his hands. She grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands and pushed him away from her with as much force as she could muster, making him tumble away.

"Jonathan, what the hell?" She screamed, wiping her lips as she stormed to the other side of the room, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. "I'm your sister!"

"Exactly," he laughed incredulously as he stepped towards her again, not being phased by her near cowering form against the wall. "You're my sister. _My_ sister - nobody will ever love you as much as I do." He tried to weasel his arms around her waist again, but she was quicker to act, spinning out of his grip and escaping to the other side of the room again.

"This isn't right." Clary shook her head sternly as she ran her hands through her hair, spinning around to face her brother with a terrified expression. "You can't say things like that, you can't _do_ things like that!"

"Why not?" Jonathan shouted, his anger becoming as prominent as the vein in his forehead. "You're _mine,_ Clarissa. Nobody else deserves you - you belong to _me."_ He made his way over to her in two swift strides and grabbed her by her arms pinned to her sides, forcing his lips upon hers once again.

She struggled against him and kept her mouth tightly shut, screaming out as best she could through closed lips. This only angered him further, as evident by the defiant growl echoing low in his throat, and he threw her roughly to the bed besides them. She landed on her side and she tried to scramble off the bed, only to be stopped short by Jonathan climbing deftly over her.

She screamed out as he turned her onto her back, pinning her arms above her head with both hands and placing his knee firmly between her legs so she couldn't kick out very hard. His red hot lips found their way back firmly to hers, effectively cutting her screams off.

She felt tears well up in her eyes as she continued to fight against her brother - her _brother -_ to no avail. She tried to shout out at him; _Jonathan, please. No, stop!_ But she just couldn't. He was stronger than her, more powerful than her. She just couldn't do it.

"Clary!" A loud, fearful voice called through on the other side of her bedroom door, giving her a glimmer of hope. She felt Jonathan tense above her, his lips stilling against hers and his grip on her wrists faltering. "Clary, open this door right now."

Jonathan's face was a picture of ferocity and anger as he practically threw himself off her and the bed, rising to his feet in a huff. He ran his hands through his hair and pulled sharply at it, trying his best not to shout out in annoyance.

Clary doubled over as soon as he let her go, wrapping her arms around herself as she laid in the centre of the bed. She willed the tears to stop as she buried her face into the covers, feeling disgusted and violated all over. She heard Jonathan's heavy footsteps round the front of her bed and head towards the door. He unlocked it, and pulled it open.

"Jonathan," she heard her mother's startled voice. "What are you doing here? Is Clary in there?"

"Yes, she's here." He replied coldly. "And I was just leaving."

Clary heard Jonathan walk out from the room, and she felt herself physically relax into the bed, almost as if he took away all her fear the moment he left the room. Her mother's light steps could be heard walking into the room, though they stopped and she could hear a small gasp. "Clary."

She heard the door shut again and her mother quickly rounded the bed so she was on the side Clary was facing, dropping to her knees and leaning across the bed to hold her daughter's hands. "Clary, what happened?" She placed one hand on her cheek and smoothed the hair that had been plastered to her cheeks from her tears, tucking it behind her ear so she could clearly see her face again. "It's okay, you're going to be okay."

"I was so scared, Mom." She sobbed, pushing herself into a sitting position to wrap her arms around her mother. Jocelyn immediately acted, cupping the back of her head with one hand and rubbing soothing circles on her back with the other. "It was like he was a completely different person. It wasn't Jonathan, not the Jonathan I know. That Jonathan," she shook her head as she pulled away from her mother, looking into her eyes with fear. "That Jonathan was a demon. I-I know, he has demon blood _in_ him, but... I've never seen him like that."

"It's okay," her mother whispered comfortingly, cupping either side of her face as she used her thumbs to wipe her tear-stained cheeks. "We're gonna get you out of here, okay? You won't have to see him like that ever again."

"What are you talking about?" Clary narrowed her eyes as her mother rose to her feet, walking over to the bedroom door. Clary sat up on her knees in the centre of her bed and followed her mother's path, watching as she locked the door. "And why does everybody keep locking my door?"

"We don't have much time." Her mother whisper-shouted in a hurried voice, scurrying over towards her wardrobe. Clary shifted to the edge of the bed before standing, watching as her mother gathered a few items of clothing. "Put these on." She handed her some balled up clothes and urged her towards the bathroom, before turning back to the wardrobe again.

"Much time for what?" Clary begged for an answer as she walked into the bathroom, keeping the door open so she could still hear and speak to her mother as she changed. "Mom, you're scaring me here."

She could see her mother grabbing a large duffel bag from beneath her bed and throwing it on top, before shoving some clothing inside of it. "Your father will be looking for you soon. He wants your presence at the meeting he's holding."

"A meeting for what?" She was getting beyond frustrated now, storming into the bedroom and throwing her old clothes in the washing basket at the end of the bed. Instead of sweatpants and a shirt, now she wore almost full battle gear, with tight black pants and a tight tunic tucked into the waistband, a matching black leather jacket over the top. "Mom, what the hell is going on?"

"Valentine is starting a war." Jocelyn threw the clothes in her hands down on top of the bag in a huff, looking up at her daughter with a strained expression. She was on edge, her eyes were wide with fear, and she looked incredibly tired. "He's starting a war with those in Alicante. He wants complete control of Idris."

Clary took a step back in surprise, furrowing her brows in confusion. "He's starting a war with his own people?"

"As far as your father is concerned, the Clave are not his people." Her mother laughed without humour as she continued to pack the bag full of Clary's clothes. "Yes they're Nephilim, but their friendship with Downworlder's make them no better than scum in his eyes."

Clary could sense the venom in her mother's voice as she spoke, and she folded her arms across her chest as she watched her. "And what do you think?"

Jocelyn sighed, dropping a pair of shoes into the duffel bag. She closed her eyes and dropped her shoulders, gripping the sides of the bag tightly. "I do not agree with your father, Clary." She admitted quietly. "I never have. All those years ago, during the Uprising, I stood by his side for your sake. I knew I was pregnant at the time, and I knew that if I betrayed your father he wouldn't of hesitated in torturing me or even killing me." She looked up to the side at Clary with sad eyes. "If I'd of known what would have become of you, I never would have stayed."

"What do you mean, 'what would have become of me'?" She shifted to sit beside the bag on her bed, looking up curiously at her mother. She took her hand for comfort and support, urging for her to continue.

"Your Runes, Clary," she explained almost urgently, moving to sit besides her daughter, "the gift bestowed upon you by the blood of Ithuriel. Those Runes are the one thing that can stop your father and his army of Demons and Endarkened. He wants you on his side, because your power is so immense, he can win the war in a matter of days. And that terrifies him. If I'd have known that you would have these abilities, and he would use you just for his own benefit, then I would have never let him near you."

"I'm the only one who can stop him," she murmured to herself in realisation, looking down at her lap. Her head darted upwards as her own words set in, and she jumped to her feet and spun to face her mother. "If I don't stop him then he's going to kill thousands of Nephilim and Downworlders. Maybe even millions!"

"Which is why you cannot stay here." Jocelyn explained, zipping up the bag and grabbing Clary's _stele_ from her bedside table. She also grabbed the witchlight from the top drawer, before handing her both of them. "You need to get to Alicante and explain to them what is happening. They can only win with you by their side - they _need_ you, Clary. You need to make them realise that."

"How am I supposed to do that?" She ran her hands through her hair, flustered as she watched her mother run around the room like a chicken with it's head cut off. Her mother knelt down in front of her wardrobe and slipped up one of the wooden planks there, revealing a stash of Shadowhunter weapons. Clary's eyes widened in surprise - she never knew that was there! Sixteen years in that room and not once had she concerned herself with searching for secret weapons. "I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm only seventeen!"

"You're one of the most fantastic seventeen year olds I've ever met." Her mother laughed genuinely this time as she placed the large box of weapons on the bed, opening it up. Several seraph blades were there, as well as throwing knives, whips, and half a dozen other types of weapon. "Clary, you are one of the greatest Shadowhunters of this age. The Angel's blood runs through you, more than anyone else in this world. It's a gift you must embrace."

"What if I'm not ready?" Jocelyn picked up two seraph blades and a holster, wrapping the holster around Clary's waist as she spoke. "I'm not trained to fight in a war."

"Of course you are." Her mother holstered the blades in the leather material, making sure they were firmly in place. She then passed Clary a pair of thick combat boots to put on that had a couple throwing knives slid inside the ankles of them. "Your father has been planning this war for almost a decade. You and Jonathan are both trained to be the most lethal killing machines our world has ever seen."

The room was spinning as Clary ran her hands through her hair, gripping it nervously into a bunch at the nape of her neck as her mother ran to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf on the wall opposite the bedroom door. Everything was moving all so fast, it was hard to comprehend it. One minute she was living her normal life, the next her brother was confessing an unnatural love for her, and now she was being told she was going to be sent to war.

Her body was tired, and her mind even more so. It felt like the world was going to collapse in on her, but she refused to let it win.

"Clary, help me with this." Her mother was pushing on one side of the bookcase, but struggling. Clary ran to the opposite side and began tugging it with her mother pushing, and eventually it began sliding out of place noisily.

With one last final huff and heave, they stopped shifting it, a huge oak door being exposed in the wall. Clary stepped back in awe, looking it over and over several times. "How long has this been here?"

"Since before the Uprising." Jocelyn explained as she grabbed the bag full of clothes on the bed, handing it to her daughter. "This place used to belong to the Clave, and several of the rooms contain hidden tunnels leading to the Forest. They were made as a precaution, in case the Council needed to escape from an attack or a threat. Your father doesn't know about this one."

She opened up the door and urged Clary through, gesturing for her to use her witchlight to illuminate the dark and dingy tunnels. She did as told, taking the enchanted object out from her pocket to light it up. It shone brightly, and Clary could see her mother's fearful expression. "If you follow the paths as they go, it will take you to the edge of Alicante. Keep heading North and you'll hit the city - search for a man named Lucian Graymark."

"What about you?" She furrowed her brows, and her mother smiled softly.

"I'm going to stay here." She said sadly. "I'm going to stall your father, I'm going to give you as much time as possible to prepare the Clave for the battle to come."

"But he'll find out I'm gone - he'll know you helped me escape! What if he kills you?"

"He won't, Clary." She whispered comfortingly, placing a hand on her cheek. "I hold too much valuable information for him to hurt me. I promise you, I will be fine." She must have seen the doubt in her eyes, because she brought her in for a warm and reassuring hug. "I believe in you, Clarissa. I know you'll do me proud."

They stayed in each other's embrace for a few minutes, neither saying anything as they reveled in their final few moments together.

Jocelyn eventually pulled away, placing her hands on Clary's cheeks again. "I love you, Clary." She kissed her forehead firmly, before resting her chin atop her head. "I'll see you soon. Stay safe - stay strong!"

"I love you too." Clary forced the tears back as she pulled away from her, stepping further into the tunnel as her mother retreated into the room. She covered her mouth to hold back the sobs as she watched her mother close the door on her, her face disappearing into the darkness. She let out a desperate cry, holding her stomach firmly with her other hand. She whispered to herself, knowing her mother wouldn't be able to hear her. "I'll make you proud. I promise."


	3. Like Looking in a Mirror

**Chapter Three - Like Looking in a Mirror**

 _Sorry for such a delay in chapters! I haven't had internet the past week and only had it fitted this morning, so, yeah. Thanks for all the new follows, and please please PLEASE review!_

* * *

Clary felt like she'd been walking for hours without much result. Her mother had been right in the fact that there was only one path to follow, so it was pretty easy, but still a mission to traverse her way through. The secret tunnels were damp and cold, and she found herself hugging her jacket tighter around herself to keep warm. The floor was cobbled, like olden British Victorian roads, and the walls were large concrete thermal blocks. Every five metres or so there were empty torch holders, as if once it had been so frequently used that fire torches were necessary to illuminate the path. Now all that lit the way was the brightness of her own Witchlight.

As she was turning the corridor she felt a cool gust of wind hit her, and she gasped as she stopped dead in her tracks. She lifted the stone in her hand up above her head so she had maximum light, and squinted down the long stretch of seemingly endless hallway. Though this one wasn't so endless. It was marginal, but she could see a small glimmer of light in the very far distant.

She let out a shaky laugh of disbelief and couldn't help but smile at the sight, letting her feet carry her as she began running full speed towards the ball of light. It took maybe less than thirty seconds until she was hit full force with the cool night air, the confines of the tunnels no longer surrounding her.

The exit was concealed mostly by trees and foliage, so much so that she doubted anybody would ever be able to find it unless they were directly searching for it. She muttered something under her breath, and the Witchlight faded to darkness, the natural illumination of the moonlight being more than enough for her to see everything. She shoved it in her pocket alongside her Stele as she cautiously ventured forwards.

The forest ended almost as soon as it began, and Clary was stunned at the sight beyond the trees. It was stunning - absolutely stunning. There, about half a mile away, was the opulent city that was Alicante. She'd never seen it up close, only ever from the safety of the towers in the Morgenstern Castle, or images in books. But now she was seeing it up close, for _real..._ The stories didn't do it justice.

The City of Glass.

It took Clary merely ten minutes to get to the very edge of the city, where a ten-foot-tall wall surrounded the perimeter. From certain angles she could see the shimmer of wards above the wall, presumably to keep out the Demons and Endarkened - hopefully not Shadowhunters.

She shrugged the duffel bag off from her shoulder and jumped up as high as she could, tossing the bag over the top of the concrete wall. She heard it land on the other side with a cushioned _thud,_ before backing up several paces to prepare herself to vault over the wall. She ran straight for it and outstretched her arms above her, acting similarly to how she had in the training room when she was fighting with Jonathan as she ran several paces up the wall.

Despite it being twice her height, she managed to grab at the concrete at the top, and she let out a struggled sigh. She was able to heave herself up to the top of it where she dangled her legs over the other side. Her assumption of the wards not being put up against unwanted Nephilim was right as she jumped down to the muddied floor with no injury.

The city was surprisingly busy as she wandered further North, just as her mother instructed, the curious stares of both Nephilim and Downworlder's alike boring into her soul. A shiver went down her spine as she walked past the buildings, ducking her head low so not to attract too much attention to herself. She'd never met a single Downworlder - the sheltered life she lived under the dictatorship of her father never allowed for her to meet one. And now she was surrounded by them. It wasn't completely unnerving; just different.

Now that she'd gotten thus far, she honestly had no clue where to go. _Keep heading North and you'll hit the city - search for a man named Lucian Graymark._ That's what she was told. She'd headed North, she'd hit the city - but who on earth was Lucian Graymark?

She spotted a girl with light brown skin and voluptuous curly brown hair leaning against what appeared to be a bookstore, arms folded as she watched the people walk by. She looked nice enough, and so Clary decided to try her hand at asking for directions to this mysterious man she was searching for.

"Hey," she said politely as she approached the girl, gaining her attention. She seemed to regard her with cautious eyes, kicking her foot off from the wall behind her to rest on the floor. Closer up, Clary could now see the large scar decorating the front and part of the side of her neck. _Werewolf._ "I'm sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you could help me find someone. His name's Lucian? Lucian Graymark?"

The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise at that, and a small smile appeared on her lips. "I know Luke. Whether I take you to him depends on who you are."

As a precaution after the girl's hostility, Clary lowered her hand to hover over the front pocket containing her Stele. "Clary." She said cautiously, making sure not to mention 'Morgenstern' - she could only imagine the outrageous reaction that would receive. "My Mom told me to find him. Her name was Jocelyn."

"Jocelyn, huh?" That name seemed to ring a bell with the girl, and Clary felt hopeful she was getting somewhere. The girl pursed her lips and looked her up and down one final time, before seemingly coming to a decision and nodding. "Alright." She dropped her hands to her side and stepped away from the wall, nodding her head towards the door of the bookstore besides her. "Come along, Shortstuff."

Clary was surprised when the door opened without needing unlocked, considering it must have been close to midnight. There were no lights shining through the windows, either, so she'd assumed it was closed. _Guess not..._

The inside of the store was a complete contrast to the dull green of the exterior with a half broken sign. The place was much bigger on the inside, stretching back so far she couldn't quite see the books on the back wall. There was a second level to it, too, - at least that she could see - with a grand oak wooden staircase leading up to it. Clary was attracted immediately to the books on display, her body moving like a magnet to the wall on her left.

She outstretched a hand and her fingers grazed the spines of the books, each labelled differently but each with the same white base, and beautiful golden decor. _Advanced Nephilim Combat, Advanced Nephilim Runes, Advanced Nephilim Weaponry._ The expanse was huge - and that was just from the small part she'd seen!

"Hey," a scolding voice caught her attention, and her head snapped to look at the girl stood near the back of the store. She was looking at Clary in disbelief and slight annoyance. "We're not here to browse books. Do you want to see Luke or not?"

"Right." Clary retracted her hand from the bookshelf, shoving it in her pocket as she slowly walked to follow her. "Sorry."

The back room she lead her to was small - cozy, was probably a better word for it. There was a small amount of light being made from some sort of lamp, but she couldn't see it beyond the wall of books that was stacked on top of some desk. The girl walked to the far end of the room and spun on her heels to lean up against the wall, looking at something on the other side of the books. "Got somebody here to see you." Her eyes fluttered momentarily up at Clary, before back at who she presumed was Lucian. "Claims she's Jocelyn's daughter."

She could hear shuffling of papers, and incoherent mumbles from a deep voice she couldn't see. Clary's gaze was fixated on the girl she'd met outside the bookstore, who in turn was watching the third person in the room. She nodded, before pushing herself off the wall and sliding past Clary and out the room without another word.

She stepped forwards the moment the door behind her was shut, before a figure appeared where the girl had been stood before. He looked rather unkempt, with shaggy brown hair and an askew green flannel shirt. He had kind blue eyes that were oddly... _familiar._

His mouth dropped open as soon as he set his gaze on her, and his eyes were wide with wonder. "You look exactly like her."

* * *

Turns out Luke, as he preferred to be called, lived above the bookstore. He'd closed up shop and took Clary up there so they could talk more privately. She sat down demurely in one of the oversized, red plush sofas as Luke handed her a mug of steaming hot tea. She shrugged her duffel bag off to toss it to the floor, kicking it so it was tucked between her legs and the sofa so it wasn't in the way.

"I'm sorry for coming so late." She apologised as he settled himself down on the chair opposite her, placing his own mug of tea on the table between them. "I didn't really have much of a choice - my mom told me to come straight here."

"It's really no bother, Clary." He offered her a kind smile, and suddenly she didn't feel so out of place there. "Your mother meant a great deal to me. She still means a great deal to me! So I'd do anything to help her out."

Clary leaned back and allowed herself relax slightly in the chair, taking a sip of her tea as she watched the familiar man opposite her. "How do you know my mother?"

"Jocelyn and I were very close before the Uprising." He explained, leaning forwards on his chair with his elbows across his knees. "I was your father's _Parabatai."_

"No way!" She gasped in disbelief as she practically jumped out of her seat. She placed her mug on the table and furrowed her brows in surprise. "I never even knew my father _had_ a Parabatai."

"He doesn't." He chuckled slightly under his breath. "At least not anymore." He sat himself up straight and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, pulling one half to the side to expose three large scars going down his right pectoral. It was like a giant cat had scratched him, or a...

"You're a Werewolf." It came out more of a statement than a question, Clary noted, and with a tone of indifference. She surprised even herself with how safe she felt in the presence of a Downworlder, despite all the stories her father had told her.

She'd grown up being taught that Downworlder's were a disgrace, that their demon blood poisoned them and their judgement to do anything right. While Jonathan had always seemed to agree with him and took it in his stride, Clary couldn't help but always think of how hypocritical it was. Jonathan had demon blood. Her father interacted with demons on a weekly basis - yet Downworlder's who were just _half_ demon didn't deserve to live, in his eyes? It just wasn't right.

Luke readjusted his shirt to cover the scar marks and buttoned it back up. He wasn't looking directly at Clary, rather than just a random spot on the table, with an almost nostalgic look on his face. "Your mother was there with me the night I first turned. Valentine took me out to the woods and was prepared to kill me for what I was about to come, but he decided against it. Jocelyn emerged from the shadows moments after he left, and comforted me throughout the whole process."

"Eventually it became too dangerous for her to be around me, so she ran and hid for protection. The moment I changed back into myself, she was there again." He smiled at the memory, looking up at Clary. "Your mother really is an amazing person."

That made Clary smile. She laughed softly to herself and nodded in agreement. "She is. She really is."

They were quiet for a few moments, almost just basking in memories of Clary's mother, before Luke finally broke the silence. "So Jocelyn sent you to come find me?" He said cautiously, and Clary nodded. "Why?"

She sighed heavily, running her hands through her hair. She rested her elbows on her knees as she bounced them up and down nervously. "Valentine wants to start a war." She said quietly, solemnly. "With the Clave - with Alicante. He wants more power."

She could see the realisation set in on Luke's features at her words as he leaned back in his chair. His hands gripped at the arm rests, and he let out a breath he'd been holding in. "That's huge." He shook his head. "I mean, we all expected him to rebel against the city at some point. We just didn't expect it so soon."

"I know how to stop him." Clary urged, clasping her hands in front of her. "I'm the only one that can stop him."

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, leaning towards her once again. "What do you mean _you're the only one that can stop him?"_

"I have-" she hesitated with her mouth open as she debated telling him the full story. She knew she needed to inform the Clave of her abilities, but she didn't know if she wanted to tell every single person she met. She'd rather just have everybody who needed to know in one room, so she could tell them all at once. It was hard enough being known as an 'accidental experiment' by her own family - but for every other Angel-forsaken Nephilim to know as well?

"I have special abilities," she finally let out with a sigh, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. "Abilities that no other Shadowhunter has. I know how to defeat him, and I need the Clave to know that they _need me_ on their side. Otherwise every single Downworlder and Nephilim on this side of the country is going to die."

* * *

The next morning, Luke scheduled a meeting with the Clave for Clary. She didn't really know what to expect with them, given she'd never interacted with another Shadowhunter outside of her father's domain, but she wasn't entirely surprised when they explained they didn't want a Morgenstern inside their property.

She knew her family had a bad reputation when it came to the people of Alicante, and so it was understandable that they didn't trust her enough to speak to her under their own roof. While she had all the best intentions on helping them fight against Valentine, they didn't know that. She could be working under the control of her father for all they knew.

Instead they'd agreed to meet with her at the Lightwood Institute - a smaller yet equally as important Shadowhunter Institute on the other side of the city. While the Alicante Institute was home to the Clave, and was where all official decisions regarding the Shadowhunter world were made, the Lightwood Institute was the one that trained all the younger Nephilim born and living in the city.

"I'm afraid this is as far as I go." Luke said apologetically as the approached the iron gates beyond the Institute. Clary spun around on her heels to face him with narrowed eyes. "While I am friendly with the Lightwoods, I'm not permitted to enter without official confirmation from the Head of the Institute."

Clary nodded in understanding, stepping forwards to hug him tightly. He seemed to be slightly taken back at first, though quickly responded as he wrapped his own arms around her. She felt him rest his cheek atop her head, and she smiled. "Thank you for looking after me, and helping me get a meeting with the Clave." She said genuinely as she pulled away, wrapping her arms around herself. "You've been nicer than you ever needed to be, so, thank you."

"Like I said last night, I owe Jocelyn a lot after everything she's done for me. Making sure her daughter was safe is the least I could do to repay her." He smiled, giving her one last one-armed hug before heading back the direction they both came.

Clary was about to step through the gates when Luke called after her, and she turned to face him again. He was looking back at her with a pointing finger. "Keep in contact with me, please. I'd like to know how you're doing in Alicante. Maryse knows how to contact me." She nodded her confirmation with a smile, before finally venturing her way inside.

The inside was almost the exact same as any other institute Clary had ever seen, with a tall roof and wooden decor across almost every inch of the place. There was an old timely carpet covering the floor, almost like the one you'd see in your grandparents house, and several gaping doorways with no doors leading to various parts of the compound.

She stepped forwards hesitantly, readjusting the strap of her duffel bag as she called out. "Hello?" She heard her voice echo off the empty walls, and she stopped in her tracks to look down the three different hallways she could see. "I'm looking for Maryse Lightwood?"

A small boy appeared at the end of one of the corridors, then, gazing at her curiously. An almost sly smile appeared on his lips as he took her in, before skipping down the hallway to stop at her feet. He was boyish, couldn't be any older than maybe seven or eight, with dark brown hair and oversized glasses covering pale grey eyes. He looked up at her with a confident grin, and Clary couldn't help but laugh softly.

"Max Lightwood, at your service." He beamed, outstretching his hand professionally to her. She bit her lower lip to stop the huge grin from breaking out, immediately enjoying the presence of this young man. She shook his hand firmly with a nod, letting him take the lead as he so pleased. "Are you looking for my mother?"

"If your mother's Maryse, then, yes." She chuckled.

The boy nodded, turning on his heels before walking down the same hallway he'd just come from. "Follow me - I think she's in her office with my siblings." Clary followed the quick steps of Max, only just managing to keep up with his pace. "So what's your name?"

"Clary." She smiled down at him. "Clary Morgenstern."

She heard the boy gasp in surprise at that, and he stopped in his tracks. He looked up at her in disbelief, and she stopped walking just besides him. "Are you Valentine's daughter?"

She bit her lower lip and nodded. "I am."

Max opened his mouth to say something else, but whatever he was about to say was cut short by the door behind him opening up. "If you three cannot come up with a suitable training schedule then I will simply do it myself." A commanding woman with long black hair was saying as she stepped through the door, yelping in surprise when she stumbled into Max's frozen figure. "Maxwell Joseph Lightwood, what are you doing stood outside my office?" She looked up to see Clary for the first time, and her face widened into one of shock. Clary had a feeling she'd been seeing that a lot... "You must be Clarissa Morgenstern. My, don't you look exactly like your mother."

"Just Clary, please." She smiled, watching as the young boy between them scurried off down the hallway and out of sight. "Are you Maryse?"

"I am, yes." The woman stepped back inside her office and opened the door up wide, gesturing for Clary to step inside. "Please, let's talk in my office. I'm sure my children would like to meet you, as well."

She held her duffel bag strap tighter to herself almost self consciously as she stepped in, looking around at the neatly furnished room. It was decorated like the main interior of the Institute in various shades of cream, red, and brown, with a large desk on one side and a large black sofa opposite it. Two black-headed people were bickering in the corner of the room, one female and one male, while a blond headed boy was leaning nonchalantly against the wall with his arms folded.

The two bickering immediately stopped as Maryse shut the door behind them, heading over to her desk. The girl regarded Clary with a smile, while the boy seemed more hesitant. "Hi." The girl stepped towards her cheerfully, outstretching a hand. "Izzy Lightwood. Nice to meet you - I assume you're gonna be staying here for a while?" She raised her eyebrows and nodded towards the bag on her shoulder.

"Oh, uh," Clary looked at the duffel bag for a moment as she placed it down on the ground, kicking it so it was out of the way from anyone to trip over it. "I don't really know yet. I'm here on kind of - business?" She heard a scoff come from besides her, and she snapped her head to see the blond boy watching her with a smirk.

"Business?" He said in disbelief, looking her up and down not so subtly. Clary swallowed nervously at his gaze, feeling awfully exposed in that moment. "You're, like, fifteen. What type of business could you be doing?"

"Jonathan Christopher Lightwood." Maryse scolded as she slammed her hands down at her desk, glaring at her son from across it. "That is not how we treat guests here in this Institute."

Clary waved her hand dismissively to the older woman, hoping it wouldn't come across as rude. "It's okay, Mrs Lightwood. I get it all the time." She smiled at her, before turning her gaze on the boy in question - the boy who, curiously enough, shared the same name as her own brother. She folded her arms and raised her eyebrow in a confident gesture. "For your information I'm seventeen, _actually,_ and I'm here for a meeting with the Clave."

"Just ignore him," the raven-haired girl from before said to her. "Jace isn't exactly a people person. Unless you're a 6-foot-nothing blonde bimbo." That made Clary laugh, and the blond glared at the girl she assumed was his sister. Izzy just smiled innocently, fluttering her eyelashes as if butter wouldn't melt.

"That's enough, the pair of you." It was Maryse again, and she sighed before sitting in her tall leather chair. "Clary, these are my children; Isabelle and Jace, and the quiet one is Alexander."

The black haired boy from before shook his head, raising his hand in a 'stop' sort of motion. "Just Alec is fine. Pleasure to meet you." He outstretched his hand for her to shake, and so she did so with a polite smile.

"This is Clarissa Morgenstern." Maryse continued simply, as if her surname meant nothing. Clary noticed the curious gaze she got from Isabelle, but pretended to ignore it. "As she said, she is here for a meeting with the Clave. They couldn't hold the meeting at the Alicante Institute, so they requested permission to meet here."

"So you're a Morgenstern?" Alec said, sounding genuinely curious rather than suspicious or accusatory. "I assume this is your first time in Alicante?"

"It's my first time out of my own house." She laughed shakily, shoving her hands in her front pockets. "My father isn't exactly the type of parent who will let you go for midnight strolls beyond Brocelind Forest."

"So he's as ruthless as everyone says he is."

"Let's save the questions for another time," Maryse cut Clary off before she had the opportunity to respond to Alec's question, standing to her feet and dusting down her pencil skirt. She raised a hand and gestured to Jace, "could you please take Clary to one of the empty rooms in the West Wing, and take her bag for her."

Clary went to argue to say she could carry her own bags, but the blond was off from the wall and shouldering the duffel before she could even get a word out. "Of course." He opened up the door for her to walk through, and she nodded a gingerly thanks to the others in the room before heading off.

They walked for a few moments in awkward silence, Clary with her arms wrapped around her mid section and Jace with his hands in his pockets. Eventually it was him who broke it. "Business with the Clave, huh?" He still sounded suspicious like he had back in Maryse's office, and so she just nodded. "What type of business?"

"I don't know." She shrugged vaguely, not knowing if she could trust him. "Just business."

"Is it about Valentine?" He said none too kindly, peering at her curiously from the corner of her eye as they rounded another corridor.

She looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "Why does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't." He laughed, looking ahead again. "But if you're going to be staying in my home then I thought I at least deserved to know what you're here for."

"I told you," she rolled her eyes as he stopped in front of a door, opening it up for her. Besides it was a black plaque with faded silver numbers on it. _176_ _._ "I'm here on-"

"Business. Right." He stepped inside and dropped her duffel bag at the end of the bed, before spinning around with arms wide to gesture to the room. "La Chambre de Clarissa." He smirked, stopping to look at where she was stood in the door way. "Make yourself at home. Isabelle's the room across from you, _175_ _,_ and I'm just down the corridor in _111._ Maryse will be in her office, and I'll be wherever."

He made his way past her and out the door with a mock salute for her before disappearing down the hallway. Clary let out a laugh as her gaze followed him down the hallway, shaking her head. "Unbelievable."


End file.
